Familiarities
by Belle Literature
Summary: What if Aelin Galathynius met Rowan when she was much younger? 13 years later, Celaena Sardothien has escaped the Salt Mines of Endovier. Now on the prowl in Wendlyn on a new assignment, she is captured by a group of Fae males sworn to protect her target. Will those emerald green eyes and pine and snow scent be her downfall, or will it lead to a better world?
1. Chapter 1

Although the castle grounds of Doranelle were made of exquisite structures surrounded by crystal rivers, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius quickly found herself bored out of her mind. Without the presence of her cousin Aedion or her parents, she quickly ran out of amusing things to do. Although Marion's sweet attempts to entertain the child worked at first, she quickly gave up; her child not being nearly as complicated as Aelin.  
"Marion?" she wined, as she perched herself up next to the Lady, who was completely content with having her nose stuck in a book. Aelin scrunched her nose in a tight grimace as she glanced at the blank page; no pictures. "Marion?" she tried again.  
"Yes, Fireheart." Her attention didn't waver from her book and Aelin doubted it would for a while.  
"Can we play hide and seek in the forest?" Aelin cooed glancing over to the long strip of land at the edge of the castle. It was only a few yards away.  
"No, don't be silly. It's nearly dark and your mother and father told you to stay here. Their meeting with the Queen will be done soon, don't fret." Aelin flinched at the mention of her. She couldn't explain it but when she met Maeve, all she could see was that spider's smile that made her shiver.  
"Please," Aelin whined, clearly losing the battle.  
"The answer is still no Aelin." Marion returned to her book before a second's notice.

Aelin sat there for while longer watching the small fish swim gracefully through the stream. She was so bored she was going to rip her hair out, there was nothing to do here; no one to play with. Noticing that Marion was not going to lift her head up from her book she decided that she would use that to her lack of attention to her advantage. Slipping into the stream, Aelin smiled as her blue dress floated through the water. The water caressing her legs as she waded through the shallow stream. It wasn't long before she reached the bank on the other side and skipped into the forest, leaving the poor Lady completely unaware that the little princess was on the loose.

She didn't want to go too far in case she got lost but Gods these woods were beautiful. Nothing compared to the woods in Terrasen but still beautiful. There were flowers everywhere as she wandered aimlessly. Maybe she could give some of them to Marion and her mother. She hiked her skirt up and made a small pouch where she could put her findings. There were so many shades of reds, purples and pinks as she walked along the shrubbery, picking the flowers before smelling them and then placing them into her skirt. Red was her favourite colour; she had decided after picking a particularly pretty rose before putting it in her braid that ran down the length of her back. She was having the time of her life, a quiet place to go where she wasn't followed by guards or Marion. Despite her love for her carers she greatly wanted to be independent. A common attribute that she shared with her father.

She continued along the little track though stopping when she heard a twig snap and heavy breathing. A jolt of fear rushed through her as she snuck her way along the tree line before a clearing. That's where she saw him. His long hair was silver and glistened in the sunlight as he moved. He was a broad and tall and his green eyes that reminded her of home were determined as he flung knife after knife at a particularly large tree trunk. He was definitely not in a cheerful mood judging by the grimace on his face. She watched for a while longer, the way he moved was swift but elegant; a warrior, that's what he was. It was unsettling, why was he so angry? Aelin snuck out from where she had been watching him.

"Boo!" she squealed as she jumped out in front of him. She still held her skirt up with an abundance of flowers. The warrior stood dead as he looked the little girl up and down. He had known she had been watching him as he practised and the thought that she had no idea made him grin.  
"Gods you scared me." He said placing a hand to his chest for emphasis, Aelin giggled. His eyes were a beautiful emerald up close but there was a subtle sadness there, an unexplained emptiness that made her want to reach out to him; this unknown warrior.  
"Would you like a flower." She gestured to her skirts and pulled out a pretty, purple daisy. The warrior stopped; the smile wiped off his face as he glanced at the flower as if it brought up something that he kept deep inside of him. Aelin hesitated, "Do flowers make you sneeze? My cousin doesn't like flowers because they make him sneeze."  
It was a long moment before the male answered, "No I like flowers, thank you very much." He smiled again but the smile didn't reach his eyes as he took the flower from her small, dainty hands.  
She blushed, "Can I put it in your hair?"  
He chuckled, "Of course you can." He knelt down as she weaved the flower into his silver locks. Aelin marvelled at how silky his hair was and she wondered what he put in it to make it that way. She liked that he smelled nice, pine and snow. Most of the boys at home smelt horrific except Aedion of course.  
"What's your name?" She asked as he stood up and collected his daggers from the tree trunk.  
"Rowan. What's yours?" He glanced back at the little girl, Gods she was small compared to him and clearly no older than five years old.  
"Aelin but my parents call me Fireheart." She said as she placed the flowers into a pile, smoothing out her pastel blue dress that made her turquoise eyes stand out. Rowan knew exactly who she was when she entered the clearing the rims of gold around the spheres labelling her as an Ashryver without a shred of doubt. Though he was a little confused as to what she was doing alone in the woods.

"Are you allowed to be here little princess?" He asked taking a fatherly tone he didn't realise he had.  
She simply ignored his question with a simple nod before asking, "Why were you throwing the knives at the tree?" Her enquiring question made him chuckle.  
"I was practising, you can never be too good." Aelin giggled again, she decided that she liked it when Rowan smiled.  
"Can you teach me? I want to know how to fight like my cousin." Rowan chuckled once more as he watched the girl leaping through the air kicking and punching but stumble as she lost her footing in the thick undergrowth.  
"I could maybe give you a few pointers."

They spent the next few hours together in the glen. Rowan teaching Aelin how to kick and punch without stumbling and Aelin – well she certainly like weaving flowers through his hair.  
"You're my best friend Rowan." She finally stated as she thrust herself into his arms.  
Rowan grinned as he traced circles up and down her back, "You're my best friend too," Aelin smirked which made Rowan roar with laughter. "Aren't you a sassy little thing?" She giggled again when she heard the crunching of the undergrowth grow closer and closer.

"Aelin!" Marion called out to her. She hadn't realised she had been gone for that long, the final sparks of the sun going out as it slipped below the horizon. Terrasen guards flooded the clearing eying Rowan up and down with hostile suspicion. Marion finally entered the clearing, tears streamed down her face in a wild panic. "Aelin." The sob came as she dragged the little princess into her arms. "Are you alright, you're not hurt?" Aelin hadn't seen the Lady this scared in her life and it unsettled her a little bit.  
"I'm fine, I was playing with Rowan. He taught me how to kick and punch." She said pointing sweetly to the green-eyed warrior.  
Marion lifted her eyes up to him in utter shock, "Thank you, I'm do apologize if she bothered you."  
"Not at all, it was nice to meet a new friend." He winked at Aelin who giggled profusely.  
"Thank you for watching her." She glanced down at the little princess before lifting her up into her arms. "Say goodbye to your new friend Aelin." She murmured into the little girl's ear.  
Aelin rubbed her eyes, exhaustion finally creeping in as she waved to the warrior.  
He smiled, "Goodbye Fireheart."

* * *

_13 Years Later…_

The explosion rattled the cells as the dreary slaves woke up to a start. The thunder drowned out the cries of the fearful people as the doors swung open. Celaena jumped to her feet from the lump of hay that she and twenty other people had been attempting to sleep in. Her chains dug into her wrists and ankles as she tried to untangle herself from the other prisoners. Celaena knew they weren't guards appearing for 'entertainment' for they had their minds set on her and only her.

"Well, I'm so glad I got to see this," Tern smirked as he motioned to his two other companions to sever her chains. The other slaves groaned as another weight released from them.  
"How much time do we have before we're caught and strung up on the gallows?" She spat as the assassins through her two hunting knives and a couple of daggers.  
"Eh, roughly five minutes, three if we decide to chat up any of the ladies," Mullin said gesturing to a particularly gaunt woman not much older then her. Celaena growled as she motioned to leave. Time was definitely of the essence.  
"Gods you smell like bull, but at least they didn't take away your pretty face." Tern caressed her making her bare her teeth.  
She pulled away in an aggressive motion, "Good to see you haven't changed much at all over the year. It was a pity that I didn't get as gangly as you." This time Tern bared his teeth as the others chuckled sauntering out of the cells and into the stormy night.

They had definitely wasted time and Celaena was furious as she cut down guard after guard. She wasn't as strong as she used to be, and it was clearly showing in her fighting, but her skill hadn't been lost. The thunder boomed again as they pushed up through the halls of the Governor's estate at the edge of the mines. This time she wasn't running to her death, she was running for her life. The alarms had been sounded and hundreds of guards were now on the prowl as they climbed onto the rooftops. The panels were slippery, but she managed to stay on as they scuttled across the roof. The assassins clung to the shadows, avoiding the remaining guards that flooded the grounds.  
"The carriage is in the woods, just a few more yards," Harding said more to himself than anyone else as he heaved himself along the rooftop.

With quick procession they shimmied down the drain pipes where they met the flood of guards, blocking all exits. Shit. They really didn't think this through, they were wasting time. It was easy to kill, it was instinct. As she threw her dagger into the necks of unsuspecting soldiers, she gut the others with her hunting knives. Bodies surrounded the assassins as they slipped through the gate that they had opened before running into the woods. Endovier was on high alert as squads of guards flooded the town's local inns and woodlands.

As they approached the clearing panting and covered in mud and gore, Arobynn stepped out of the carriage.  
His mask sealed into a smirk as he reached for her hand. "Hello darling, I sure as hell missed you."  
Celaena went still, "Where were you a year ago." She spat as the man caressed her face before pulling her into a tight hug. She knew she was going to have to face him but not right now.  
"Celaena, you do not understand how hard I tried to get you out and this was the night." He whispered in her ear before placing a gentle kiss on her neck. Her breath hitched and she winced as he touched her marred back.  
"Don't I was flogged." The others sniggered as she pulled away from him, gritting her teeth.  
Arobynn simply grinned, "My brave girl, let's go home."

**Author note:**

**I've had this idea stashed away for a while. Please review it would greatly be appreciated. If you have any questions or suggestion on how the story is going to go, please private message me. **

**Thanks so much, Belle.**

**xoxox**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author Note:**

**So sorry I haven't posted in a while, as you know school work gets in the way of all the fun.**

* * *

It had been rather amusing to Celaena to find that she was a wanted woman; more so than she was over a year ago. Tern had come back to the Keep one night with his usual severed head and his snarky comments and gestures, but he also brought home a small poster. The handsome reward that was offered for Aldarlan's Assassin alive was extremely generous. She had laughed outright when Arobynn had told her that a young prince had travelled all the way to Endovier to find that his little champion had escaped only a few hours before. Oh, she was in deep shit. The Assassin's Keep was just how she remembered it, the lavish furnishings, crystal chandeliers and the hole in the wall that Celaena had left after throwing a dagger at Lysandra had remained, but there was a cold silence that always followed her around the house as she trained and regained her strength. She put on her mask and hid her tears whenever she walked past Sam Cortland's room never daring to venture inside, until one night she couldn't stand it any longer.

The door barely creaked as her small figure slipped inside. She was frozen – she couldn't feel as she stood in the room, cold and quiet. The room was exactly the way he had left it, over a year ago. The candle was dim on his bedside, just the way he liked it. His bed was made, and his pillows were fluffed as if he didn't go to bed that fateful night. The furniture was lavish and of a dark oak and the room faintly smelt like him. No dust, clearly Arobynn had sent maids to keep this room clean, to punish her for what happened or maybe try to break her? She didn't care anyway because it had worked. She was Celaena Sardothien and she will not be afraid. Nothing broke her, not Endovier, not Arobynn but this, the glimpse of him brought her to her knees.

She walked to his bedside and opened the contents of his drawers. Fountainpens and papers, not much really considering most of his belongings were at the warehouse apartment. She wouldn't dare go anywhere near there. She lifted his pillows to find his nightclothes in their usual spot, folded and tucked under the pillows. She breathed them in as she brought them to her face, they still smelt like him. She wanted to lay there, just for a moment. She wanted to breathe in his scent and pretend just for one moment that this was all an awful dream and she would soon wake up in his warm embrace away from here on some continent where no one knew their names and they could have a life together. She lifted up the sheets to slip in, there was a letter tucked underneath. Unopened and not a single crease as if it were tucked underneath the blankets only yesterday. Celaena stopped, did Arobynn or one of his inner circle place this here? To taunt her? She picked up the letter as if it wore a prized heirloom or maybe an asp, opening it. If this was left here, then Sam would have wanted her to see it. She didn't know if she was more or less reassured to find that the letter was in fact in Sam's handwriting.

_I will most likely be dead by the time you read this, so do not contact me thereafter. If this letter somehow reaches you, there are constant correspondents coming through to the heir upon the location of the of le cerf ombre. I have my doubts, but their claims are consistent with the description of la mar de anneax. _

_If you can not locate the objective, contact the heir to evaluate the option of bringing Al-  
_

The letter itself didn't make sense because the translated Eyllwe was also in code. A chill rippled through her bones at the thought of him keeping secrets when he was alive. Did he carry those secrets to his grave? Judging by the smear of ink across the page as if as he was writing when his arm was ripped from the page. Sam hadn't put this in the envelope, the question was who did?

Loud footsteps rattled the halls, growing radically louder as she quickly stuffed the note in her nightgown pocket. The door burst open, Arobynn had a calm expression as he quietly closed the door with a quiet click. He had wanted her to hear his footsteps coming down the hall and she doubted that he didn't know about the letter. He gave the smallest appearance of grief as he briefly glanced around the room...

His breath was a huff of hot air as he came closer to her, "Are you happy that I kept the room clean?" His voice was cheerful as if Sam hadn't died and he was on a simple assignment and would return within the hour. She didn't answer him. "You know, I have a gift for you." He sighed again and sat on the bed as if it were his own. He pulled out a navy box that was rimmed with gold out of his breast pocket. "I bought it just after you were captured, in hopes of somehow getting you back." Arobynn opened the box to reveal the prettiest of broaches, the best he had ever given her. The mix of diamond and emerald glittered in the faint candlelight as he lifted it up to pin it to her nightgown.

Celaena's breath caught in her throat as he grazed his fingers along her neck, smiling sweetly before he planted the lightest of kisses on her cheek.  
"I have another surprise for you." He hummed as he brought her closer to him. Gods he was tall.  
"And what is that?"  
"A chance to get out. If you want to?" He smiled greedily as he looked her over, "Besides your ready and I don't want you to be cooped up all the time."  
She stared at him looking for the deeper meaning behind it. She hated how she could never read him. Arobynn had done this before, right after she had come back from her summer in the Red Desert. Right after he had beaten her unconscious. Was he apologising for the fact that she went to Endovier or for the death of Sam?

"You'll be sent to a different continent, so you will have no worry of being recognised and I think the woman's touch is needed for this particular assignment. I doubt Tern or Mullin could perform such a task." She giggled at that but still, what was this assignment? As if he read her face he said, "It's in Wendlyn and there is a little problem there that I need to fix before I can get you to do anything else."  
"So this is personal?" She asked, raising her eyebrows as he grazed his hands along her scared back.  
He chuckled, "Somewhat; it's a matter of business. Hector Fotos is a high-end merchant from the Southern Continent instructing trade between Wndlyn and Adarlan. However, my eyes and ears have told me that there are dealing within the slave trade among this trade line and that ruins my investment."  
She smirked as he gave her a wicked grin, "So this is personal then, what's your plan?"

* * *

The boiling heat radiated off the brick streets as Celaena weaved her way through the carts and sweaty vagrants. Gods it was hot, she could feel the sweat dripping down her neck and into her tunic. It was too hot to stay in the hotel room and she decided that if she found a cool spot to sit she thought that she might become lucky and find a bar that is open at this time to drown out her sorrows. All though she had been free for four months now, the pain hadn't yet eased. Maybe it never will? Maybe the pain of losing Sam will never leave her chest? Or the pain of the whip slicing down her back? As she walked passed a particularly beautiful couple her stomach sunk even further.

The heat was almost unbearable, and she almost sobbed in relief as she stumbled upon a bookstore. The cool air kissed her sweaty face as she brushed through the doors and grazed along the bookshelves. Gods she missed this, to sit and read. A place to go when reality was too unbearable for her. She always loved to read even in a different life, when things weren't that bad. And today, her opinion still hadn't changed.

She flipped through the pages and barely looked up to see a green cloak flap through the door with the ring of the bell. She paid no heed as the hot air and the quite scent of pine and snow hit her in a rush; a familiar scent that she couldn't quite put. She looked up once and glanced at the tall dark figure in the forest green cloak facing away from her, browsing another bookshelf. Celaena decided that the book she currently had, although suspenseful, grew increasingly boring. She brushed her hands along the old spines on a new bookshelf. She glanced along the shelves and decided on a novel. Unfortunately, it was on the top shelf. Gods it was only just out of reach. Her arm was fully outstretched as she was extended to her full height on the tips of her toes but to no avail. She was about to give up when a long muscular arm reached for the book with ease. Celaena turned to thank the man but instead of giving the novel to her, he examined the cover with a quiet stillness.

_"La Dame Blanch_?" He read aloud before handing it to her. The man was incredibly tall and there was no doubt that he was built with power. A warrior perhaps or an extremely skilled bodyguard, the thought brought chills down her spine. Celaena couldn't see the mans face under his thick, green hood except for his pink lips, that she swore it had the slightest of grins.  
"It's a good book." She simply said as she pushed passed him.  
"Well if you've already read it, then why read it again?" He had picked another book from the same shelf but placed it back after he grimaced at the cover.  
She scoffed, "It's a classic, they're supposed to be reread multiple times." He grinned and that's when she stopped. There on display were two razor-sharp canines peeking beneath his plump lip. He was Fae!

Fear punctured her gut as she gave him a hesitant smile before paying for the book and leaving. He didn't appear to be offended by her abrupt exit, though she couldn't see his face. This man – male couldn't have known who she was. He could pick up her scent there was no doubt about that but what terrified her the most was that those pointed canines and that smile looked very familiar.

* * *

Hours had passed since Celaena pushed the thought of the Fae male from the bookstore just as the day had finally cooled down into a sky of crimson, orange and pink. Her plan was simple dispatch Fotos and be done with it. She could leave Rifthold and make a new life on another continent, where no one knew her name or her past. She could hide her fear, her pain, her guilt. She wouldn't have to ever gaze at a Fae again. She could maybe establish a bookshop and lose herself in a novel every day. She could run as far as she wanted and live the life she was supposed to live; the life she was supposed to live with Sam.

She had spent three agonising days stalking Fotos and she had gathered like most wealthy merchants, he was unwed, in his mid-forties and he most certainly loved the company of women. Celaena had smiled at that fact. He was not practically handsome though his golden skin and dark hair did make him look a little bit young. Over the three days, he had many guests come to his house from the many brothels that festered in the steaming city. He also had a band of guards who although let in many 'guests' they were certainly not cheap, to say the least.

There were only five of these hooded guards; two stationed at the front of the house, one at the back and the other two followed the wealthy merchant whenever he left the house. They never let their guard down as they were constantly searching the streets for any possible threats and they rarely ever left their posts. This fact, unfortunately, made her job extremely hard. _But she was Celaena Sardothien and she would not be afraid. _After all, Arobynn did say that this job needed a woman's touch.

It hadn't taken her long for her to change and prowl around the pleasure district of Wendlyn and surely enough, there was her target flanked by two hooded figures, eyeing the provocatively dressed woman as they stood by doorways. She couldn't approach him without looking sleazy or desperate, although she hated the upbringing alongside Madame Clarisse's courtesans she had to say; in this situation she was grateful. Hector Fotos liked to spend his money lavishly, she had noted. This included women. Drawing back her cloak revealing her rather scandalous violet dress, Celaena sashayed her way past him, brushing past him in the tight crowd. Her dress created the desired effect as he peered at her cleavage practically bulging out of her corset. She was surprised his bodyguards let her get so close to him, perhaps they were not as skilled as she originally thought.

Celaena glanced back at Fotos staring up at him through her thick eyelashes before smiling. Gods she was a wicked thing. Hector followed soot as she led him through the city streets before he finally grasped her arm.  
"How much are you worth you pretty little thing?" He huffed into her neck as he brought her closer to him. The guards followed but had stopped a few metres back clearly disgusted beneath their hoods, for all she saw was the tight thin lines of their lips. Good.  
She lowered her head before giving the merchant a sultry look that she had seen many courtesans in Rifthold do, "It depends what you would like to do." Her stomach churned and it was hard not to gag as he ran his dark hands along her sides.  
"I'm willing to treat my woman properly, would you care to come back to my apartments?"  
She giggled and twirled a blond lock around her finger as she looked up into his brown eyes, "It would be my pleasure to be of service to you sir." Oh – he really liked that.

It wasn't long before Celaena was swept into a carriage and was taken back to the house. She had memorised ever entry and exit already but quickly scanned every nook and cranny in the lavish home for any other possible escape routes. The two guards were following behind them. She stifled a smirk; they were going to wait outside the door. She would have to put on a show then. The room was exquisite, nothing short of the most expensive furniture and items just like the rest of the house. There was a small desk in the corner scattered with papers and other documents. Good, she could maybe get something for Arobynn if the Belladonna worked for long enough.

"Would you like a drink precious?" She smiled at him, batting her eyelashes as she excepted. Pouring the glasses of wine, he sat on the large bed and motioned her to do so. She was going to be sick. Every instinct in her screamed to run away and hide. She was free from Arobynn anyways she had already paid off her debts. Why couldn't she just leave now?  
"What a lovely place you have." She said sweetly as she was brought into Fotos' lap.  
"I do like to spoil myself." She nearly gagged right then and there. This man was a sick bastard and he needed to die quickly, not for Arobynn's sake but for hers. She needed to make a bold move on him, so he didn't notice what she was about to do.

Celaena lunged herself at him, gaining a growl of approval as she kissed his neck. As she brought him into a kiss, she dropped the contents of the small bottle that had been in her pocket into his goblet. He was awful, as he groped her, and she stifled a wine as he began to undo her bodice. She pulled back before stepping off the bed, giving him a seductive smile.  
"How much are you willing to pay?" She asked, her voice sweet yet heated.  
He smirked, "Although you dress like a lady, you are no less a whore." He took a great gulp of his drink as he grazed his eyes down her body. He named his price but she simply shook her head. She needed time. The façade continued for another minute before his language became slurred and his eyes became droopy. The Belladonna would only knock him out for a few hours, so she had to move quickly. Celaena loosened her bodice before stripping the unconscious man of his shirt and trousers. She glanced over the documents of the desk before stashing a few in her bodice. She put on her cloak before strolling out the door.  
"Thank you, sir." Her voice was sweet, and she blew a kiss to one of the guards before strutting down the halls and out of the house.  
"_Slut._" one of the guards huffed as she turned a corner. She smirked; she had most certainly done her job well then.

* * *

It was not long before Fotos finally came back to consciousness. She had been perched up on the roof of the house opposite for about three hours now, dressed in her leather and her hidden weapons with a bow and arrow in hand poised to strike. The night was still warm, but a flowing breeze licked her neck as she hid in the shadows. If the guards suspected anyone for his death it would be the pretty little prostitute with revealing dress and seductive words. Hector stood from his bed and began walking around the room in a confused daze. Celaena smirked, the last thing he had seen was her untying her corset.

She pulled back her arrow, aiming for the eye. This was her last kill and she would be gone. She could go somewhere far away from here or anywhere near Adarlan. She could vanish like frost on an autumn morning, no one would know her, she could begin a new life. The arrow flew just as a hand landed on her shoulder pulling her back. She jolted away from the two men in a sudden movement, she wasn't even sure if her first arrow hit her intended target. It was a mere second before her second arrow flew, landing into one of the men causing a cry of pain. They were fast and graceful on the roof, bobbing and weaving through her daggers before they had her pinned to the ground. The men were the trained guards that were stationed outside of Hector's bedroom and for the first time, she saw their faces.

Fear speared through her as she took in the sharp canines and pointed ears. These men – males were Fae! Unmistakably Fae! She was pinned to the tiles by one of the most beautiful men she had seen. Hot blood pulled onto her face as the blond male that she had shot was tying up her arms whilst the brunette straddled her, preventing her from moving.  
She whimpered as the brown-haired male knelt over her neck, his canines so close to ripping out her throat, "Well sweetheart, you are definitely the highlight to this job." His chuckle vibrated through her and she continued to struggle underneath him. He chuckled again, "Don't bother trying anything or I'll rip out your throat and it won't be painless. So, you're going to come with us and back to the house and we can have a little fun." Celaena knew that he could practically inhale the terror that was radiating off her. A sudden burning sensation rattled through her. A feeling that she had not  
"Lorcan, hurry up." The latter's stress in his voice was clear. The wound had not stopped bleeding and she took a small satisfaction in the fact that she had laced her arrows with poison, not to mention she had just missed the heart and was surprised at the speed of the shot as she fired it.

She was hauled off the roof in a swift motion and was carried back into the merchant's house and down into the basement, where no one could hear her scream. There was a chair in the cellar with ropes and chains already prepared for her. As if they knew the moves she was making for days. Were they possibly working for the King to gain a handsome sum? The three other guards were also Fae and also strikingly beautiful. She growled as the brunette – Lorcan leaned onto the chair that she was now tied up in.  
He stared at her for a while as if reading her every move and thought before finally speaking, "So are you a whore or an assassin then?" The room was silent except for the occasional hisses of the wounded currently being treated by a silver-haired Fae with a long dark tattoo that snaked across the left side of his face and down into his shirt. The pattern of swirls and lines were the language of the Fae that she had once studied in a different life. A life where she was not forced to kill or battered by scars. A life that she didn't just exist but a life that she lived. Celaena wondered for the smallest of moments, what brought him to get that tattoo?

She continued to stare at the pair, frowning in the slightest of confusions. They stared back. "I don't feel like I need to tell you when you already know the answer." She finally said, before smiling at the giant male perched above her.  
Lorcan stepped back, glancing at the injured Fae before smirking, "Gavrielle has dealt with worse."  
"The wound isn't deep, it just won't stop bleeding because of the poison." The silver-haired male finally spoke. He was a warrior, there was no doubt about that, the tattoo was also on his blood-soaked hands as he tended to the male – Gavrielle was his name.  
"Well, she knows how to play games. Shall we play a game?" Lorcan's voice was like venom. This wasn't an interrogation he was toying with her like food on a plate. They had foreseen this as if she were the pray. He chuckled, "Have you figured it out yet, Aelin Galathynius?"

**Author Note:**

**Thank you so much for all the support that this story has received. I love writing this one and I hope you like the second chapter. Please review and if you have any questions about where this story is going private message me!**

**Thanks Belle,**

**xoxoxox**


	3. Chapter 3

_The frosty night bit at Aelin through her torn nightgown as she swerved through the thick forest. The dark figure was closing in on her. Sword at the ready to cut her down like crops in a field. The Angel of Death himself, charging on horseback making his final kill. He was coming for her as he came for her parents' mere days before. Images of her mother and father's mutilated body flashed through her mind as she tripped on the thick shrubbery. The amulet that her mother had given her bounced on her heaving chest, pulsing; as if it had a heart of its own. She approached the bridge through the thicket where the stars met the roaring river. Her fate was in natures hands…_

_A soft cry came out of the child as she willed her petite, little legs to go faster, urging on. The Angel was quick on his dark horse as it galloped across the bridge after her. She stopped; she had a choice. The choice to die by the hand of man or by the Gods themselves. And at that moment, Aelin Ashryver Galathynuis flung herself into the icy, black waters below. The galloping stopped before she hit the water and the world went black. The rough waters swept her away with a violent force. The cold licked up her spine and somehow, she felt a sense of calm. The cold enwrapped her, took her, became her and she let it consume her. Soon, she will be with her parents again. Soon she will cease to exist._

* * *

Calming her burning pulse and pounding head, Celaena willed her face into a snarky grin, "Do you Fae not receive correspondents, she died nearly ten years ago." The pure terror flowed through her and no doubt did they know it. She willed her racing mind to hush as she battered her eyelashes at her captors. Celaena had to figure some way to get out without revealing any information about herself or where she came from. She was in what many would call, deep shit!

There was an opportunity when two of the most beautiful Fae males entered the room before taking a place against the wall; twins she assumed. Both of them carried weapons; though she doubted they would need to use them. The blond male gave her a seductive grin which she returned at the expense of a glare from his brunette brother. Lorcan moved away from her and the group spoke in hushed tones that she couldn't hear. Earning any distraction she could get, she attempted to yank her hands free from the tight ropes; a manoeuvre that Arobynn had recently taught her. She slowly wiggled her hands through the first rope, twisting and applying pressure to certain areas. The friction caused her skin to break and she suppressed a cry of pain as she finally clasped her hand free. She went for the second hand but Lorcan was quicker than she and had her hands pinned and restrained within milliseconds. He pressed his hands on her slim ones and she hissed, "I didn't realise I wasn't allowed to get comfortable."  
He chuckled as he looked her up and down, "Five Fae males of Queen Maeve's inner circle up against an ignorant child. Really Aelin, I thought you were smart." Maeve's inner circle, that's what they were. All warriors, subjects to the most cunning and brutal monarch of all existence. Trained from birth to kill with great efficiency. They could choose how she died, and she doubted it would be quick and painless.

She smiled down at his callused hands, "I'm afraid that sounds meagre considering you couldn't keep Fotos from being killed by an ignorant child, as you say. How does that reflect on little Maeve?" She pouted a lip for emphasis and that was when he slapped her. Celaena had barely brought her head back when this time he punched her. Lorcan's fist collided with her jaw, splitting her lip. The others watched on as if it were a sport as he continued to batter her face.

Her mind was racing, this was so familiar, and it made her want to be sick.  
_"I'll kill you!" _That's what Sam had screamed whilst Arobynn had beaten her senseless. She wondered if anyone would ever protect her like that ever again. Well – doubting she would get out of this alive, she had to say no. She had lost track on how many times Lorcan had punched her before he finally stepped back. He examined her bloody face as she spat blood out of her mouth and onto the cold stone floor. Good, this was good. She gave all the men watching a large grin before resting her gaze back onto her tormenter who was smirking right back at her. Let him get angry, she can take it. After all, soon she will be with her parents again; with Sam again.

"Please answer the questions darling and this will be done a lot quicker." The undertone of sarcasm made her skin crawl as he pulled out a small blade from his breast pocket.  
"Why didn't you say so earlier Lorcan, this mindless chatter is making me bored." Sweat began to run down her face as Lorcan brought the knife to her battered face.  
He snickered, "I'm sure your face is an important asset to your occupation. I wouldn't want your bitchy little tone to get in the way of what we need. Though I am sorry to say that you might have a couple of small scares here and there." Her breath hitched as he idly traced the blade along her cheek and down her neck. She let out a small cry as he drew blood at the base of her throat.

He chuckled, "Now darling who sent you?" He angled the knife as it slid across her collarbone. The blades were small but Gods the cuts were painful. She whimpered in pain when he yanked her hair out if it's braid, urging her to look at him. "Are you going to answer me?"  
"How do you know I didn't just decide to come here myself? A little holiday of the sorts." He sliced the blade down again and that time she screamed. She avoided his gaze as he sliced down her arm, but she didn't scream, she wouldn't show them that she was in pain, despite how much they knew. She found herself staring at the silver-haired male, with the tattoo that cascaded down his face and into his shirt. The tattoo was dark, and the creative swirls made out the Fae language. What it said, she had no idea, but it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. She continued to stare at the male and to her surprise, he stared back. His eyes were an emerald green and they shone with sadness that matched her own. For some odd reason, Celaena had the sudden urge to go to him and comfort him despite what was currently happening to her.

She was brought from her slight trance when she was pulled by her chin to meet Lorcan's gaze again, "I'm being really patient sweetheart." He gritted his teeth.  
She simply grinned at him, "What if I cam here on my own terms, after all the money is good here on both sides of the spectrum. I don't have to deal with any Adarlanian soldiers." He grinned again before he brought the blade up to her neck before slowly bringing it down to her clothed chest. Her breath caught in her throat as she stifled a cry when he began unbuttoning her suit.  
"How many scars do you have princess, I doubt you've done much over the years so I'm going to move on, why are you a wanted woman?" Panic clawed on her insides as she raced her mind for neutrality.  
"Being the lost heir of a land since invaded country definitely has its disadvantages."  
"Oh, so you are finally admitting to your lineage now, but you know that is not the answer I was looking for." They can never know that she was a slave, they would most likely mock her or even worse pity her. But she couldn't have Maeve know, she would use that against her.  
She swallowed deeply, hurting her butchered neck before she spoke, "My profession also has its disadvantages." Not a lie either, that was technically why she found herself wound up in Endovier anyways.

He brought the dagger to her exposed chest before slicing her skin a few inches below her collar bone. Tears ran down her face as Lorcan continued his pursuit on the other breast. She found herself staring at the tattooed Fae again. Celaena had noticed that his bloodied hands were clenched into fists as he watched her, and her heart sank slightly at the fact that he clearly wanted her dead as much as everyone else in this room.

Celaena was exhausted and she was ready to die and when that happened, she would have the last laugh. Lorcan brought the knife back to her throat in one swift movement that she couldn't of possibly read with feral efficiency, "My patience is running very thin sweetheart, so you better start talking."  
She opened her mouth to talk but nothing came out, instead, she let out a wild scream of pain. Celaena was engulfed in darkness. It suffocated her, ripping her insides piece by piece. The manifesto continued as Lorcan's power shredded her. Something flashed through her she would not die like this. She would not leave this world without fulfilling a last desperate purpose. She will save her country and her people, she must It had been nearly ten years since she felt that feeling, the feeling of her core burning her from the inside out. Celaena felt Lorcan's dark claws drawback and cower in the might of her power; her flame! A familiar pain began to burn through her and with every ounce of will, she suppressed it. Pushing it back down into her soul whilst simultaneously pushing out Lorcan. She had almost lost control and if that did happen, it would have been the end of her.

Lorcan was across the room now, his breathing heavy and his eyes dark with a mixture of rage and terror. Tears streamed down Celaena's cheeks as her gaze fell upon those pine green eyes, comforting her in some way. He was so still against the stone wall as if he were a statue, Celaena gave him another grin.  
"We're not getting anywhere. She has wasted our time, just kill her." Spat the brunette twin as he stepped forward, willing to do the job.  
She grinned at him, slowing her raging breath, "So many bruiting warriors in one room, who don't know how to deal with a simple whore."  
Lorcan approached her again before slowly kissing her bloodied skin. She jolted, attempting to pull away from him but he had his hand wrapped around her throat ready to snap it at a moment's notice. His other hand lingered at her waist as he drew circles with his thumb on her stomach, "I'll show you how I deal with a simple whore."

"Enough!" Fear charged through Celaena at the sound of the voice and volume. The silver-haired male was now off from his spot on the wall and striding right towards her.  
Lorcan pulled back from her gave him a glare, "Last time I checked Rowan, you were not first in command." So that was his name, Rowan.  
"We do not rape women." His voice was low yet sharp like a dagger, "She'll be dead soon. Bring her to her Majesty and let her have some fun." His piercing stare struck her like a slap as he began to untie her restraints.  
"Gavriel, fetch a pitcher of water will you." Celaena could barely hear Rowan's commands, slicing the last bit of rope before she fell to the ground.

Rowan glanced at the closing door before his gaze landed back on hers, "You should be grateful, he took it easy on you."  
"I've dealt with worse." She spat before attempting to get up off the ground. Gods he was tall and muscular, she doubted that there was an ounce of softness on his body. It wasn't long before Gavriel returned with a bucket of water and a cloth. They lifted her up onto her feet and she stumbled with them through the door. Though she wasn't going upstairs, instead, they opened another door in the shelter to reveal a small hole in the wall. A cell, with no windows and no breathing space.

Celaena stopped before shaking her head in horror. She won't go back into the darkness not when she had been free for so many months. Rowan and Gavriel didn't seem to notice or particularly care for her pure terror as they placed the bucket of water into the cell and then shoved her in with it. The iron door was closed within a second and Celaena was brought back to Endovier.

* * *

Rowan could hear her heavy breathing as he approached the cell door early the next morning with a tray of bread and cheese and a candle with him. Gods he was tired and extremely glad that he only had to clean a little bit of blood rather than a body. He went to unlock it when he stopped, her voice was a low croak as if she had been screaming all night. Rowan lent his head to the door, urging his Fae ears to hear her voice.

"_My name is Celaena Sardothien and I will not be afraid."  
"My name is Celaena Sardothien and I will not be afraid."  
"My name is Celaena Sardothien and I will not be afraid."_

She repeated those words over and over as if she was performing a spell to curse this wretched place. He didn't blame her, though he was rather confused about why she was not using her real name. Aelin knew that they knew who she was, only she refused to call herself that.  
"_Aelin Ashryver Galathynius."_ It rolled off his tongue with ease as he whispered the legends name; her name. Rowan gritted his teeth as he remembered what Lorcan did to her last night. Of course, he had seen Lorcan do worse. He had done worse himself but something about her made him want to protect her always. And that fact made his skin crawl. She was a criminal, an abomination to her family and kingdom.

Rowan eased the door open with immortal stealth as he slipped in the room. Aelin – or Celaena, had paid no heed to his arrival. She was facing away from the door, hugging her knees to her chest and rocking back and forth. Repeating those words, "My name is Celaena Sardothien and I will not be afraid." Chills ran down his spine as he watched her for a moment. Her hair was ratty and tattered with dry blood and the front of her suit was torn. Her face was a dreadful sight, her two puffy eyes swam with tears and blood. Rowan's stomach lurched as he set down the tray, producing a jar of salve from his pocket as he went to her.

Aelin flinched as he pulled her face towards him as he opened the jar.  
"What are you doing?" Her croaky voice jerked in alarm, but Rowan simply ignored her, applying the soothing gel onto her face. Gods her face was a mess. She was speckled with small cuts, big bruises and a split lip. Fury seethed through him as he tendered to the wounds on the frail woman – girl. Aelin was nothing but a girl. Rowan willed himself to calm down, he would have done the same thing to get information from her, for his Queen. Though to all of their dismay, they didn't really get any. He was awoken from his daydream when Aelin moaned as he applied the salve onto the cuts on her neck. He pulled away from her, thanking the Gods that she could not see his flushed face in the dim light.

"You will come with me to Doranelle and if you behave, hopefully, I won't have to use the salve again." His statement was cold with no emotion, and it scared him when she returned the look. Nothing, absolutely nothing in her turquoise pools rimmed with gold. It made him sick. Although she was barely eighteen her eyes were worn with age and his heart curled in pure terror. There was a long silence between them as Rowan hastily shoved the tray of food in front of her, which she began to devour gratefully. "So, who sent you to kill Fotos?" Rowan asked simply as he took a piece of bread from the tray.  
"I didn't realise that this was an interrogation," Aelin growled as she moved away from him.  
"No a mere conversation." He answered trying not to sound irritated. He wondered how she came to be Celaena Sardothien, Adarlan's assassin. How did no one recognise her? Her Ashryver eyes sparkled in the faintest of lights. He had to admit, although her face was swollen and red, she was incredibly beautiful.

"So, are you Lorcan's handmaid or something?" Her empty eyes were still present nut hidden with a snarky grin as she shoved a chunk of stale bread into her mouth.  
"No, unlike Lorcan I try not to make a mess or draw attention to myself." Her smirk did not leave her face as she placed some cheese into her mouth.  
"If you so desire to be inconspicuous then why do you have a tattoo on your face? Rowan accessed her beaten face before growling, "I don't need to explain myself to you Aelin."  
"Don't call me that!" She screeched as she gave him a seething glare.  
He smirked, satisfied that she took the bait, "It's your name isn't it or are you to cowardice to call yourself that?"  
She stopped and glanced at him for a moment before moving her eyes down to her hands, hastily hiding the scars on her wrists with her sleeve. It was another long silence before their eyes met once more. The emptiness void of blue made him want to vomit as tears escaped onto her puffy cheeks, "Yes, I've been a coward all my life, why stop now?" Rowan stomach nearly fell out of him, at the pain that was her. _Coward was what she called herself…_

* * *

_She was alive but barely and a part of her rejoiced in that fact, she had survived her fate but only by a hair. Her chest ached as a nearly constant force pushed down onto her in a fluid motion. A warm rush of wind rushed around her frigid frame. Odd, it was the middle of winter. The warm wind continued along her aching bones and she sighed at that. Aelin was terrified but there was a small comfort to know that the scent of pine and snow was familiar._

**_Author Note:_**

**Thank you to everyone who has given me amazing support. I'm so sorry that I didn't post last week, as you know school work will take up a priority but I am aiming to make a post every Saturday. If you enjoyed this chapter so far, please leave me a review, it would greatly be appreciated.**

**Thanks so much,**

**Belle**

**xoxoox**


	4. Chapter 4

It had been hours since they left Wendlyn upon their three-week journey to Doranelle. Celaena was exhausted, the bruises on her face throbbed with pain whenever she turned her head. Thankfully, Rowan hadn't said a word since they left which was good. She glanced at his muscular back as they cantered into the misty mountains above. To her surprise and her quiet offence, he had not bound her to her mare dining to tell her that she wouldn't get very far if she attempted to escape; Celaena rolled her eyes at that. He looked incredibly mysterious as his emerald cloak swished and rippled in the rising winds. A shiver ran down her spine as Rowan flashed her a glare, knowing that she had been staring. His cold look didn't help her sudden blush that crept upon her cheeks and neck, nor did his tattoo, plagued with secretes whispering across his hard, golden skin; she inwardly cursed. If only she remembered the Fae language, she could decipher the swirls that ran across his body, she shuddered at the thought.

"What does your tattoo say?" She finally asked, disinterested in remaining in silence, "If only I could understand the Fae language." Celaena brought her horse to a gallop so she could meet with his. The charcoal ink was so dark across his features it appeared to be midnight itself.  
"What do you think it says?" He replied dryly, keeping his eyes on the road disengaged.  
"Oh, bruiting warrior wants to play a game." Celaena teased, her eyes cascading down the art which disappeared into his white tunic. She wondered how far it went down his abdomen, reddening at the thought, "I don't think it would be about war stories, it would be too arrogant for you. A fairy tale perhaps?" Celaena's smirk was stark on her battered face as if it would never come off. Yes, she would have some fun.  
"I don't want this conversation." He growled glaring daggers. If looks could kill, she would have had a quick but extremely painful death.  
Celaena beamed at that; she was riling him up. She didn't know why she was picking on him, but she loved how easily she could get under his skin; it sent a thrill through her veins.

"Well if you don't want this conversation then ask me a question."  
"Why do you call yourself Celaena Sardothien and not your real name?"  
Celaena stopped at that, her grin turning to a frown. "Why do you care?"  
This time he was smirking, his sharp canines on full display on his soft rose lips, "Why do you care about my tattoo? Aelin, I've lived long enough to know how to push someone to the edge. Your measly attempts although entertaining, are rather arrogant."  
She growled at the use of her real name turning her head away from his stare, "Don't call me that. She died a long time ago."  
"Did she?" Rowan's eyebrows rose as he gawked at her for a moment before shaking his head, "Yes she did. You know, you were right before when you called yourself a coward. You think of yourself a puzzle that no one can elucidate but no Aelin, you are an open book. The same frilly nonsense I saw you reading at the bookstore. You hide away from your lineage because you are frightened of responsibility. Instead, you take on a role of an assassin; it pays well and you can turn your back on your dying people. Coward is definitely a word to describe you Aelin Galathynius."

She didn't know when she began crying but tears streamed down her puffy cheeks like raindrops on a window. Celaena stared back at Rowan's face cold and heartless, "You don't know a thing about me, who I am, what I've seen, what I've done." she leaned closer bearing her teeth, "You don't know anything."  
"Oh yes, an eighteen-year-old girl has seen many of the world's troubles. You know I almost pitied you when Lorcan was beating the shit out of you princess but now I think I would happily kill you myself when Queen Maeve is finally done with you."  
"You're a heartless monster and I want nothing to do with you or that bitch of a queen," her breaths were shallow as Celaena tried her hardest to hold back a sob. She hated to remember her past but when she did her skin would crawl whenever she thought of the Faery Queen. Anger throbbed through her veins, almost letting the monster slip from her grasp that she had spent so long trying to hold onto and hide, "I think, I've figured out what the tattoo is, you weren't always so cold. There was warmth in your life; perhaps a girl? But something happened. Maybe she left you!"

A low blow and Celaena most definitely knew it considering Rowan had torn her off her mare before slamming her into a tree trunk. Her breath hitched before she forced a smirk back onto her face, "So I was right. Did she break your heart?"  
She couldn't block the fist that came flying into her jaw, blood instantly flooding her mouth. Rowan went to punch her again before holding back mere inches from her black, blue and bloody face. He suddenly leaned in close to her neck. He could rip her throat out if he wanted; instead, he simply blew out a breath before pulling away. Celaeana simply stared at him, his admittedly handsome features changing from fury to confusion and back to his staple frozen expression.  
"It's getting dark we will stay here for the night." Rowan's voice was cold as he stalked away to the stationary horses before pulling out his satchel of supplies.  
Celaena drew out a breath as she stumbled from the tree not knowing what to say. She decided that saying nothing was better for the moment and quietly went to the nearest stream to wash out her bloody mouth and nurse her aching heart.

* * *

The air was frigid against her bearskin as she slipped into the stream, the water barely grazing her waist. Celaena breathed out a sigh as she dunked her head below the surface.

_The icy water jabbed at Aelin's little bones as she sunk further and further to the bottom of the river, the air slowly leaving her lungs. She was going to die but that was okay because she would be with her parents and she could escape the looming dark figure above. Her back finally hit the sandy bottom a light fall, a peaceful drop. Her white, nightgown floated along her body as all movement was lost as her lungs gave out. She should close her eyes, go to sleep and drift along the riverbed before hitting a rocky bank above; yes, that's what she would do._

"Aelin." The feminine tone was like music to Celaena's ears waking her from a nightmare.

She opened her eyes and there she was, her mother lying next to her along the sand. Her radiant turquoise pools rimmed with gold stared right back at her before she smiled, "Aelin come back to the surface, you do not yield…" Her mother's voice was stern but caring. A beautiful voice that could sooth and command. She reached out, cupping her daughter's face, "Come back to the surface Fireheart, you do not yield." Celaena's vision went blurry at those words. But no, she would yield because that's what cowards did; self-absorbed cowards. Her long locks pulled around her and her lungs began to burst as her breath gave out. She continued to stare at her mother in a trance, noticing that her white gown was covered in blood. A memory flashed before quickly disappearing. Was she dead and the Devil dined to give her a final taste of horror before dragging her to the pits of hell?  
"Aelin, you are strong, and you know it. Come back to Terrasen, you know what you have to do."  
"But I don't mother." She seemed to say, not quite sure if this was all in her head, "I am lost, and I don't know the way."  
Her mother simply smiled, "Oh but you do know the way Fireheart." And then she was gone.

Celaena's head burst out of the water gasping and coughing for breath. A searing pain burned through her veins as that forbidden monster inside of her finally came loose. She couldn't hold the scream of pure agony as the flame burnt her insides and a bright white light flashed around her before it came to an abrupt stop. She was no longer human, her heightened senses quickly adjusted to the fleeting light, scanning the forests. She glanced down at her naked form; the scars remained but her limbs were longer, more agile as if they belonged to the forest around her. Celaena looked down into the water only to see her reflection, pointed ears and the bruises on her face seemed to have healed along with her split lip that Rowan had given her earlier. Her face was more angular and it matched her new body nicely. She was in utter shock at how normal this felt, as if she were taking a breath of fresh air for the first time.

What was her mother's intent? Come back to Terrasen, to do what? She couldn't rule or free her land. Despite her lineage, she was quite incapable of that. She would have to face the King of Adarlan not to mention Maeve and her starving people which she had been within Endovier and worst of all, she would have to face her cousin. Celaena had heard he was quite the successful general in Adarlan's armed forces. No, she couldn't face that, she can barely face the darkness of night. Barely face the horrors of herself, trying her hardest to tug on the leash of her monster. Celaena couldn't face this because she was a coward. She had always been, from when she was little, running away whilst her dearest carer Marion was slaughtered as her parents had. She had run when Arobynn severely beat her and then Sam.

A sob escaped Celeana's mouth as she thought of him. What would he think if he saw her now; a monster and a coward. Yes, Sam would look into her eyes and then grimaces before leaving her as everyone else did. Sam, her Sam. Yes Celaena Sardothien, Aelin Galathynius were cowards. No matter what name she took she was a coward. A selfish, dirty coward. Flames engulfed her body at that point, but she didn't care. Let them swallow her, burn her to ash and have the winds carry her across the mountains until she was nothing. But they didn't; the fire simply danced across her body like a lovers caress, the reds, yellows and blues made her shiver despite the warmth. She cried and cried and cried, wishing to die so she wouldn't have to live as her broken self. Then it hit her like a runaway horse and cart. She was Celaena Sardothien, no, Aelin Galathynius and she was on fire the Fireheart and she did not yield. Aelin never died in the icy river, she was saved. If she was meant to die, she would have disappeared many years ago. Aelin was alive and she sighed at that fact. An unknown weight lifted off her shoulders, like a spirit leaving a body. Then she realised, Celaena Sardothien was dead and Aelin Galathynius, heir of Branon, Fireheart would come back to fight. For the first time in a very long time, Aelin smiled.

* * *

**I know, I am the worst. No excuses except I couldn't figure out how to continue this story. I didn't realise it would be this popular. **

**Thank you for the lovely reviews. Also, if anyone is interested in writing a fanfic with me please message me. :)**


	5. Chapter 5

Her back. Rowan couldn't stop staring at her disfigured back. Aelin's whole torso was maimed; three long scars ran down her body before reaching her rear. The others were small but they must have been deep indents from what he could see. So stark against her soft young features, Rowan found it difficult to breathe. He had raced to the stream upon hearing her screams thinking she was being attacked. Upon arriving at the banks he realised; she had shifted. Her long athletic limbs extended out of the silver springs as she examined herself as if she had only just realised her change as well. She was beautiful, undoubtedly radiant. But her back, he couldn't keep his eyes off her back. It made him feel… It made him feel furious. Red hot, rage throbbed in his veins as he saw her begin to weep. Who would do this? She looked up to the pink sky as the sun began to set beyond the treetops. She could see the stars; the stag in the sky, always there watching over her, guiding her to North. Aelin burst into flames. Taking Rowan by surprise, he nearly went running for her before he realised, she was quite safe. Red, orange and blue tendrils swirled around her slim form like a long-lost dance. This was why they called her Fireheart all those years ago. He was utterly mesmerised watching the embers float around her, observing the stream as it began to bubble and then she smiled. Not the ridiculous giddy grin, smirk or snicker that she had been given him for that past days. No, an actual smile, a beam, entranced in her own creation. Rowan hadn't realised that he had been holding his breath, thanking that the heat on his cheeks caused by her nakedness hadn't really ventured lower. His breath hitched as he watched her flames disappear like they never existed, quickly turning away from her. Rowan went still, the forest was dead silent. So quiet that Rowan could hear Aelin's calm pulse throb as she continued to wash away the grime and blood from her battered face as if nothing had occurred. The forest was too quiet, too still; that meant only one thing, Skinwalkers.

* * *

Aelin jumped at the sudden hiss of her name. Flying around attempting to cover herself, she saw the sheer terror in Rowan's eyes, had he seen her scars?  
"Aelin put your clothes on now and come to me." A command, like a general ordering a soldier. She looked at him puzzled but made no effort to argue, leaving the warm water.  
"What's going on?" She asked hastily, putting on her discarded tunic and pants. Rowan grabbed her and pulled her into the shrubbery along the rocky bank. "What are you doing you prick?" Aelin tried pushing away from him but he simply pulled her closer and slapped a hand across her lips.  
Rowan leaned into her ear, "Your flame has attracted creatures that we don't want near our campsite. You will listen to me or you will die, got it." The dominant tone sent a shiver down her spine as she nodded in response, "Good, now when I say go I want you to run as fast as you can and I also need you to shift."  
"It's not that easy." Aelin hissed pulling away from his hand. And then she saw them.

Five human-like figures were wandering around the campsite behind them; only, they weren't human. The creatures were extremely tall and toward over the horses and to her utter alarm they were skinning. The mares shrieked as they slowly died and she covered her ears, a measly attempt to distance herself.  
"I can smell them. They are near." One of the figures said, ripping a chunk of marred flesh off the corpse. Aelin flinched, she was going to vomit.  
"Yeah, a male and a female; oh how sweet. A romantic getaway in the forest." Another said, the sound a raspy groan.  
"What are they?" She squeaked, retracting into Rowan's muscular chest.  
"Skinwalkers and they will do exactly that to us." He stuttered, pointing a finger at the defaced creatures. Rowan leaned into her again, "I'm blowing our scent in the other direction now run, I'll hold them off."

Aelin did not need to be told twice as Rowan gave her a dagger she was off. She sprinted through the vegetation like a bolt of lightning. It was the fastest she had ever run before in her human skin. Yet it wasn't enough, one of the creatures had lunged at her from her left. Hastily outmaneuvering the gangly limbs and sharp claws she sliced her blade up and then down, cutting the Skinwalkers throat down to its abdomen. It fell onto the hard Earth with an instant thud. Stumbling in the darkness amongst twigs and shrubbery, Aelin wished she could shift so she could see, yet she couldn't. Her lungs ached as she tore through the thicket. She turned to look back, only once and was horrified to see what she found. The black creature that she had cut down had somehow healed itself and it was closing in on her, a bloodied scar running down its bonny torso.  
"I'm going to enjoy skinning you." Long claws latched around her as it tackled her to the ground. Aelin let out a yelp of pain as the Skinwalker's talon sliced down, slashing across her shoulder.  
She tried to move away but the entity simply straddled her, pinning her down into the hard soil, "I'm going to take my time with you, I think." The creature poked its talon into her face before leaning into her as Rowan had.

Rowan, where was he? As if in answer, Aelin heard a roar of agony from the clearing where she had fled from. She had left him, how could she do that. Rage mixed with terror like an exotic cocktail as she reached back inside herself to the place that she had covered in brick only to find a veil whispering to her to lift it, so she did. There was no searing pain like before, but she nearly gagged at the sight of the disfigured creature looking down upon her. Using all her strength she placed her hands on the rotten flesh and pushed. The Skinwalker fell back screeching, touching its scorched chest. The blackened skin was charred and flaky. Aelin wasted no time unleashing her starved power. Flames erupted from her in all directions setting the forest alight. The Skinwalker was nothing but ash. The red swirls spread along the forest floor and up into the pine trees around her; flames her flames. She was almost mesmerised as the oranges, reds and blues danced across the wood around her, destroying everything it touched.

"Lyria!" Rowan's scream brought her out of her trance and she raged towards the echoes of his voice. Now in her Fae body, Aelin's senses were heightened. Using them to her advantage, she navigated her way through the shrubbery picking up on his pine and snow scent mixed with rotten flesh.  
"Lyria, no I'm sorry please!" Her breath hitched at his cries as she approached the clearing, avoiding the falling branches from the wildfire that was drastically spreading around her, demolishing everything.  
"Lyria, oh Gods Lyria, I'm sorry!" His voice rang in Aelin's ears as she finally met the clearing only to find it was shrouded in darkness.

Aelin exploded into flames, pushing away the darkness with a single touch. There Rowan was, lying on his back screaming in agony as a dark figure loomed over him. It was certainly not a Skinwalker, no it was a woman, but somehow, it wasn't. The creature was beautiful, her long chocolate hair cascaded down her creamy back. Her skin was too pale for her to be considered human or Fae, it was almost as white as the moon itself. Around the pair was body after body of Skinwalkers ripped to shreds. What was this thing? Rowan cried out again, his eyes were closed, blood streamed from his nose and ears. Aelin grasped the heavy blade tightly in her hand as she stalked towards them. The woman - thing was strikingly beautiful her sharp features seemed to slice into your soul. Blood ran down her nose and onto her blouse as a sickening feeling settled inside of her. She could hear her mothers screams as the creature glanced at her. She then heard her father's and then Sam's. Sam's agonizing cries for aid. But she couldn't help, she never could.  
"My name is Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, and I will not be afraid." The fire rose over her shoulder like a comforting caress as she mumbled to herself, "My name is Aelin Ashryver Galthynius, and I will not be afraid. My name is Aelin Ashryver Galthynius, and I will not be afraid!" And with that, she thrust her arms at the thing and hot blue flames tore from her fingertips. Fire engulfed the creature and the clearing around them. Aelin put all her concentration into steering the red and orange tendrils away from Rowan who lay unconscious in a pool of blood. The creature screamed as her flesh was burnt but Aelin didn't stop until she was nothing but ash; anger, nothing but violence motivating her. An unfamiliar burning sensation started rising in her stomach as she finally let go and her power was gone along with her Fae body and everything went black.

* * *

She thought he was unconscious, but he wasn't. Rowan saw that raw power blast out of her, it was – he didn't have any words to describe it. He crawled to her when she fell, screaming for his limbs to lift him up. Aelin was out cold and back in her dainty human form. She had a nasty cut on her shoulder and her blonde locks were matted with blood, grime and ash.  
"Aelin." He tapped her face causing her to stir. Her skin was hot, indicating she had been approaching a burnout. Rowan looked up; flames engulfed the forest around them, the heat of it nearly forcing him to his knees. They had to move out or they'd die. Rowan used his magic to isolate the fires, tugging Aelin over his shoulder, wincing in pain at his own wounds that covered his body.

When she came to, Rowan had found a cave that was sufficient enough to keep them warm and away from the wildfire that was still burning in the distance.  
"How long was I out for." She groaned as he removed her shirt to examine the wound on her left shoulder, he would attend to his later.  
"Only for half an hour, you were approaching a burn out because your power lacks control, so you have a fever." She rolled her eyes at that before wincing as he cleaned the cut, not seeming to care that she was bear before him.  
"Why are you helping me?" She whispered, running a hand along her sweaty brow. Rowan stared into her turquoise gold eyes; Ashryver eyes, he had seen them many times before in his dreams.  
He quickly shut out that thought, "The Queen wants you healthy." Placing his cold mask back on, he blocked out her stares as he cleaned her gash before turning away to tend to his own marks.  
"What was that thing that was over you?" Aelin asked, there was no hint of hostility but instead concern.  
"I don't know but it made me feel – " He couldn't describe as he began to wipe the dry blood from his nose and ears, "It was like I was reliving every nightmare I've ever had."  
"Oh." She brought her knees to her chest as a shiver ran down her frame.

"You no longer call yourself Celaena." It wasn't a question and she knew it as she looked up in surprise, "I heard you in the clearing, _my name is Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, and I will not be afraid._" She didn't answer, perhaps didn't have the words to, "It's something you often use? You said that when you were in the closet only your name was Celaena Sardothien and not Aelin Ashryver Galathynius."  
Aelin side as she glanced out to the smokey night, "I'm tired of running and hiding, it hurts more then it heals. I'm tired of my loved ones dying; but maybe, just maybe if I embraced myself and I don't mean just Aelin but Fireheart, I will be able to have a better world. I'm tired of being - a coward." The two were silent for a long moment as the words sunk in.  
"Fireheart." He chuckled, Aelin snapped her head up looking into his emerald orbs that seemed to shine in the darkness, "I like that." She looked away again as Rowan took off his shirt to tend to the wounds that the Skinwalkers had inflicted on him.

The wounds were gruesome true to their name, the Skinwalkers had sliced along his chest leaving angry red patches where flesh should sit. Rowan hissed as he dabbed the wet cloth onto his skin as his Fae body tried to heal them.  
"I know how to treat those." Aelin suddenly stated, approaching the injured male.  
Rowan's eyebrows rose, "You do?" She motioned him to sit down so she could properly examine them. A blushed bloomed across his cheeks and he thanked the Gods that she hadn't seen it.  
"I've inflicted and had these kinds of wounds before." Her voice was grim as she patted on the sensitive flesh.  
Rowan hissed, "Care to elaborate."  
"It's a torture method, skinning someone, inflicting as much pain as possible and keeping them alive at the same time. Surely, you've done something like that before?"  
"Actually, no I haven't." Rowan winced as he tilted his neck to give her better access, "I find I prefer breaking bones. But, next time I'll give it a try."  
Aelin chuckled at that, "This should heal well enough considering your Fae blood but your tattoo." Aelin blushed looking away inwardly cursing herself.  
"I can redo it don't worry." He dismissed, as she wrapped his wounds with a cloth.

"Where did you get your motto?"  
"My motto?"  
"Yes your motto, _my name is Aelin Ashryver Galthynius, and I will not be afraid._"  
Aelin hesitated, "A friend taught me the phrase." She swallowed, "He and I…" She trailed off again.  
Rowan hesitated, "He was your lover."  
"Yes but…" Tears threatened to spill onto her cheeks, "He isn't alive anymore. He was murdered in Rifthold." Tears indeed did spill onto her cheeks but she quickly wiped them away.  
"I know the pain of losing someone." His voice was almost a whisper as he put on his shirt before sitting next to her, "Her name was Lyria, I first saw her in Doranelle, selling flowers in the city square and instantly I knew she was my mate. However, Maeve looked down upon the match stating it was beneath me as a prince to marry a commoner." Aelin's eyes widened at that, she didn't know he was a prince. "So to get back into her good graces I practically jumped at the opportunity to fight in the war, leaving Lyria alone in our house in the mountains. Soon after I heard word of enemy forces planning to attack Doranelle through that same mountain rage and I rushed home as quickly as I could…" He stopped for a moment closing his eyes, "But it was too late. I found her dead with our unborn child and I had no idea because I was so ignorant and power-hungry. I spent a decade wandering the Earth aimlessly, I went mad but Maeve came to me commanding that I serve her again, so I tattooed my grief and shame and took the blood oath."  
"I'm so sorry."  
"No, I will live for the rest of my life with my shame and my grief I don't need your pity." His cold mask slipped back into place as expression became hard.  
"I don't want pity from you either." His confused expression said it all, "I know you saw my back."  
"Who did that to you?" He asked softly, his voice no higher than a whisper.  
"Lot's of people, I spent some time as a slave in the salt mines of Endovier."  
"How long."  
"A year, it was right after Sam died." Hot anger throbbed through him lick thick blood. Blind utter ferocity but he didn't show it.

Aelin shivered as the two went silent once more, "My magic is wild I want to control it." Rowan simply nodded, "Can you teach me how to hone my power?"  
"Why, I thought you didn't want anything to do with the Fae."  
"I don't want anything to do with Maeve, I want to be myself once more." Aelin sighed looking out of the cave into the night beyond. To her surprise, the fires were gone leaving a chard, black forest in the distance. Rowan had put out the fires, "What is your power exactly? I've never seen you use it."  
"I control the winds." He said simply, shrugging like putting out an entire forest fire was nothing, "I can rip the air out of peoples lungs which is handy."  
"Is that how you killed the Skinwalkers?"  
Rowan chuckled, "No, they don't have lungs." Aelin huffed at that, "You know what, I will teach you but don't forget, you are still my prisoner."

She nodded and the cave became silent once more.  
"I don't know what Maeve wants with you, my orders were to bring you to her, I should probably prepare you."  
Aelin smirked, "Prick."  
Rowan chuckled, "Brat."

* * *

**Author note:**

**A little bit angsty but it will soon resolve. This is a slow burn because I want to keep it true to the characters. Aelin would not fall in love that quick. A big thanks to everyone who has reviewed, followed and favourited this story. **

**Thanks, **

**Belle**


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